


At the Close

by missjmelville



Series: August Fic Challenge [19]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Character Death, Deathly Hallows AU, Enemies to Allies, Master of Death Harry Potter, Self-Preservation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4616010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjmelville/pseuds/missjmelville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was shaking as he exited the pensieve, his hands trembled and his mind was awhirl with all that he had just witnessed but Snape’s words echoed back to him again and again. <i>“Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter…”</i> After everything, after all this time, he never meant more to Dumbledore than a sacrifice for the greater good. He stood numb in the headmaster’s office, Snape’s office, Dumbledore’s office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day twenty of my august fic challenge, this one came to me while I was washing the dishes and wouldn't leave. I also blame the copious amounts of HP fic I have been reading lately.

Harry was shaking as he exited the pensieve, his hands trembled and his mind was awhirl with all that he had just witnessed but Snape’s words echoed back to him again and again. _“Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter…”_ After everything, after all this time, he never meant more to Dumbledore than a sacrifice for the greater good. He stood numb in the headmaster’s office, Snape’s office, Dumbledore’s office.

It wasn’t fair, he didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready. But Voldemort had given him an ultimatum, face him in the forbidden forest or everyone would die, even his newly awakened self-preservation instinct couldn’t override his saving people thing.

As if in a dream, he pulled on his invisibility cloak and made his way out of the office and through the crumbling castle, past bodies of friends and foe alike. There was a buzzing in his ears and it wasn’t until he reached up to push his glasses further up his nose that he realised he was crying. He walked shakily to the forest’s edge and breathed deep the smell of moist earth and green things that seemed so comforting.

He fumbled suddenly with the pouch around his neck and lifted it up over his head, it fell from his trembling fingers to the ground and spilled its contents on the soft earth, his broken wand, the mirror piece from Sirius, his first snitch. He crouched down, stroked cold fingers over his most precious belongings, light glinted off the snitch, and he frowned picking it up for a closer look. _I open at the close._ It was worth a try, he was at the end, he would either die soon or… well he didn’t want to think what else might happen but maybe he could avoid death.

Dumbledore would have expected him to go through with it though, he quickly stuffed both wand and mirror back into the pouch and hung it back around his neck, he stood, the snitch clutched tightly in his hand. He brought it up to his face, rested the cool metal against his lips and whispered softly “I am about to die.” It opened like a flower blooming slowly in the sun against his palm and there inside sat the resurrection stone.

The stone felt unbearably cold as he plucked it up from inside the snitch, it burned his fingers worse than anything he had ever felt and yet he couldn’t let it go. His throat was thick with emotion and it clicked painfully as he swallowed, suddenly nervous. What if they hated him for what he was about to do? He curled his fingers around the stone and felt it digging and burning into his palm, then there was a brief flash of light from between his fingers, and when he opened his palm, the stone was gone.

In its place in the middle of his palm was seared the sign of the deathly hallows dark reddish pink against the paleness of the rest of his skin. It tingled but it didn’t hurt. Well, that was one less thing he’d have to worry about he thought as he sucked in a deep breath and ventured into the dark depths of the forest.

The chill in the forest plucked at his exposed skin and he shivered as a dozen Dementors glided past, their hooded faces turned in his direction and they let out a wailing screech that raised the hair on the back of his neck but they didn’t stop, they continued on and then, so did he. Everything felt so unreal, like a dream but the crunch of twigs under his feet and the smell of dirt in his nose, it was too real.

He could hear voices murmuring softly somewhere nearby and when he blinked suddenly he could see light through the trees ahead, he was almost there. He felt eerily calm now, now that he was almost at the end.

He stepped through the trees and into a clearing and there he was, Voldemort. The Dark Lord stood proudly in the middle of the clearing, the elder wand held loosely between his pale spidery fingers.

“I know you are there Potter,” he smiled almost lovingly; “I can feel you.” Harry shivered but he wasn’t about to back out now, he’d made up his mind. The Death Eaters scattered around the clearing shifted nervously and their whispers filled the clearing.

As if listening to his thoughts, he suddenly became visible as his invisibility cloak seemed to melt into his skin, the mark of the Hallows on his palm burned briefly. He stared at Voldemort, he wouldn’t show weakness, couldn’t.

“Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, come to die,” Voldemort’s smile became mocking and laughter echoed around the clearing from the gathered Death Eaters.

“No,” Harry was surprised with the strength of his voice, “I’m not going to die, you won’t kill me,” he walked steadily closer, vivid green eyes locked on shocking red. The closer he got to Voldemort, the more he knew it was what he wanted to do.

“I won’t?” Voldemort asked softly, deadly, the elder wand pointed straight at Harry’s head, “and why not?” he smiled cruelly then, it felt like every living thing in the clearing was holding their breath.

“I’m your second-to-last Horcrux,” he stated confidently, the elder wand fell to the ground with a soft thud and rolled down the slight slope to stop by his feet, Voldemort looked absolutely stunned, crimson eyes wide in fear and disbelief.

“Impossible,” in his confusion it seemed Voldemort had slipped into parseltongue, the Death Eaters all edged away warily, their robes rustling in a way that reminded Harry of the Dementors he had passed earlier.

He leant down and picked up the elder wand delicately, the wood warmed to him and a hiss of golden sparks came out the end, it had accepted him, he smiled. The mark of the Hallows on his palm burned for the second time and then the wand too disappeared absorbed into him. The rush of knowledge that he was now the master of death seemed inconsequential in comparison to Voldemort, standing before him staring incredulously.

“I don’t want to die,” Harry returned in parseltongue, the use of which seemed to finally convince Voldemort that Harry was telling the truth.

The laugh that burst out of Voldemort was truly spine-chilling, Harry threw Draco’s wand to the Dark Lord, who caught it easily, then walked forward a few more steps before crouching down and bowing low, forehead pressed to damp earth, his scar tingling in anticipation.

“I am yours to command,” he swallowed thickly and continued, “My Lord,” this time in English for all to hear. Voldemort laughed again, threaded his skeletal fingers through Harry’s hair and laughed some more, delighted. The war was won, now all that was left was to announce it to the world.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just because I cannot kill you, doesn’t mean I have to keep you whole,” Voldemort murmured softly into Harry’s ear as he crouched down beside him. “You said you were mine to command, now I command you to kill the filthy half-breed,” his breath puffed warm against Harry’s ear, “Or I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day twenty-two of my august fic challenge. So this happened. There may be more of this, who knows but for now I'll keep it marked as completed.

A pitiful moan broke the silence in the clearing, a scream of denial that was quickly cut off by a hastily thrown hex. Harry lifted his head to peek at the source and he felt shame wash over him as he took in the sight of Hagrid under the heavy weight of a dozen Death Eater wands. Voldemort’s fingers in his hair tightened.

“Kill the half-breed,” Voldemort’s cold voice rang throughout the clearing but not one of the Death Eaters moved to comply and Harry realised then that Voldemort was talking to him. Harry didn’t move. He expected the curse that came next as fire coursed through his veins and he writhed in the dirt, he would’ve fallen over but Voldemort had yet to loosen his grip of Harry’s hair. It stopped as suddenly as it came and he panted harshly, tears leaking from his eyes.

“Just because I cannot kill you, doesn’t mean I have to keep you whole,” Voldemort murmured softly into Harry’s ear as he crouched down beside him. “You said you were mine to command, now I command you to kill the filthy half-breed,” his breath puffed warm against Harry’s ear, “Or I will.”

Voldemort let go of Harry’s hair giving him a brief push and sending him sprawling in the dirt to land hard on his bum. It was only the lingering pain from the curse and the knowledge that Voldemort could make things much worse that made him finally comply. He knew something like this would happen eventually, there was no way he would be allowed to remain neutral and Voldemort would want to show him off.

Harry stood on shaky legs and turned to face Hagrid in the middle of a circle of Death Eaters, they parted as Harry walked towards them. If he didn’t kill Hagrid, Voldemort would and he would make the half-giant suffer tremendously. 

The Death Eaters watched eagerly as Harry stopped in front of Hagrid; they were jeering and cheering Harry on. He felt sick to his stomach but he had made his decision when he decided to save himself instead, if he did this, maybe he could save everyone else.

A coldness steeled over him, deep into his bones and he knew instinctively that it was the Hallows, without thinking he let his new instincts take over. His worry and shame vanished, he felt free and calm almost like being under the imperius but he was still in control. He lifted his right arm up and pointed it at Hagrid and immediately the Elder wand materialised in his hand as if it had been there all along. 

Everything felt right, like this was what he was meant to be, this was what he was meant to do. The words, those terrible words, they just slipped over his tongue and out of his mouth like the most natural thing in the world.

“Avada Kedavra,” there was a bright flash of green and then Hagrid was dead. The rush of euphoria that came next was unexpected but not unwelcome, he realised now the appeal.

The Elder wand, having done its job, melted back into his body where it would stay forever, no one would ever be able to win its allegiance from him. But with the disappearance of the Elder wand came the disappearance of the cold and calm that had helped him do what was asked of him.

“Oh god,” he gasped out suddenly, horror flooding him and he stumbled to the side and threw up on the ground, narrowly missing the hem of one of the Death Eater’s cloaks as they all moved out of the way hurriedly.

“Well done,” Voldemort approached, smile in place, “The first time is always the hardest, but you’ll get used to it,” the gathered Death Eaters laughed.

Cold fingers grasped the back of his neck and as quickly as it had come, the urge to vomit dissipated. He wiped his mouth clean on his sleeve and stood turning to face the Dark Lord. The hand on his neck tightened and he tried not to flinch as nails dug in and he could feel rivulets of blood running down to slide under his collar. To an outside observer it probably looked like they were about to embrace.

“Smile, Harry, for this is the most glorious day when Lord Voldemort has won,” their eyes locked and beneath the madness Harry could see genuine joy, that this monster could feel, that he still held a glimmer of emotion, maybe Harry could make this work.

He took a deep breath, then another and as his heart steadied, his mind slowed and his body stopped shaking. He needed to stop hating himself for what he had just done, he’d made a choice and now he had to stick with it, for better or worse, he belonged to Voldemort now. He smiled. It was awkward and strained but Voldemort seemed not to notice as he nodded approvingly and finally let go of Harry.

“My most loyal,” Voldemort turned away from Harry to face his gathered Death Eaters, “Now is our time to grasp the victory that is in front of us,” they hung onto his every word, “Now is our time to rid our world of the filth,” he walked in a slow circle around Harry, “Now is our time to take control!”

The Death eaters cheered loudly and then as one, they held their wands aloft and cast into the night sky, “Morsmordre!” and the clearing was lit up green as a dozen dark marks lit up the sky. There was no way they wouldn’t be able to see this from the castle, Harry thought. It was a scare tactic.

“Come, Harry,” Voldemort swept out of the clearing into the forest beyond, heading for Hogwarts, Harry hurried to catch up and the Death Eaters followed eagerly.

His robe caught on seemingly every stick and bramble, branches reaching for his face whereas Voldemort seemed to glide through with ease. He slowed as he reached the Dark Lord’s side.

“Please, you promised if I came to you no one else would get hurt,” he hated to sound weak but he had hoped by joining Voldemort, by surviving, he could keep the ones he loved alive. He stumbled over a rock almost falling flat onto his face but was stopped at the last second by a strong hand grabbing the back of his robe. Voldemort pulled him upright and then kept walking. Harry hurried to catch back up, this time more careful of where he stepped.

He opened his mouth again to say something more, to beg or plead if he had to, but was cut off.

“If you behave and do as I say, then maybe your friends,” he sneered at the word, “will come through unscathed,” he didn’t even look at Harry as he finally replied.

There was a frosty silence then, broken only by the crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot.

“Thank you, my Lord,” Harry murmured softly but he knew Voldemort had heard him because his lips were quirked up in a small smile.


End file.
